Sing Me To Sleep
by Pietruszkowa
Summary: Sucker Punch AU. Sam is one of the patients in the mental hospital, who makes an attempt to escape before he'll be put on electroconvulsive therapy as a treatment of his homosexuality. Warnings: language, characters' death, possible sexual situations.
1. The Stage

He just left the sun behind.  
>It was shining through a dirty window, last window on the way. It was bright - painfully bright for his unaccustomed eyes, but also refreshing and somehow <em>alive<em>, and reminded him of all these things which belong to some other, ordinary life, the life he used to be a part of.  
>Sam doesn't have a strength to fight, not anymore. His body is weak and sore after all the lashings he's received in last few days. He's exhausted, psychically and mentally; his mind is blank, eyes empty, breath shallow. Long, shaggy hair is falling into his eyes; he barely feels his cuffed hands.<br>The whole place is unpleasant and cold, both in terms of temperature and atmosphere. It looks and smells a little like a regular hospital - the walls have this odious green colour, the air is filled with the smell of mendicants - but there's also something else, almost tangible fear and desperation all around him, getting into his eyes, ears, nose, into his mind.  
>There's extreme quiet. He hears the scraping of pen at paper as the man marks the next boxes on the form. <em>Aggressive. Dangerous. <em>That kind of bullshit. _Suicidal. _Sam doesn't even care anymore. He doesn't have anything to care about anymore. _Homosexual tendencies._  
>He feels a strong pull, or maybe a push; he doesn't even trust his own senses anymore. The point is, he's moving forward, he sees the halls, people sitting in these halls, people who seem haunted or empty like himself. Some woman is talking to herself. Some man looks like he's trying to eat his own hand. Somebody's foot hits the ground over and over again, faster and faster; their knees are shaking as they are trying to fill some documents.<br>And, as far as Sam knows, these are not even patients yet. He starts to wonder how much worse it gets, and his mind crosses the thought that it's only a while until he finds out.  
>He passes some office. With the corner of his eye he notices a big, heavy desk, in which kind, he imagines, are bought by people who have an inferiority complex or maybe just small dicks, with huge map right behind it, hanging on the wall like some kind of trophy.<br>Another door closes right behind him - this time much heavier and better guarded, supported by grating. The part of the asylum they just entered is available only for _special_ patients and staff. Everything starts to look less like a hospital, more like some kind of a prison, with dark corridors, stuffy air and the echo of their steps on the tile floor.  
>Sam blanches at the memory of a cell, still fresh in his mind.<br>He looks up from the ground for the moment, only to notice that the man who brought him there is talking to some big, masculine guy, looking not much older than Sam himself. His guess is that it was his office they just passed, not because the guy looks like office material, but because there's no one else to who it would belong to.  
>He looks at Sam, up and down, down and up, with a little, barely visible smile on his lips and Sam doesn't like the way his eyes stop at his mouth and crotch at all.<br>"Such a handsome, young man," he says, and Sam hears malice and mockery in his voice. The boy's fists clench slightly as he continues. "Who would have thought. Isn't it just some boyish insanity? Something that few good punches and a nice girl would resolve?"  
>"Insanity, yes. Boyish and harmless… Seems like he passed that stage long time ago." The man shakes his head in disgust. "Besides, it's not only that. This case is complicated."<br>They - whoever they are, Sam still has some problems with noticing things he's not focusing on - finally take the handcuffs off. The guy - Sam thinks he heard someone calling him Karofsky, or something like this - opens another door. They enter another room, a common room, Karofsky informs them, and Sam finally sees the patients, male and female, most of them close to his age. Some of them stare blankly through the window or mumble to themselves. Some of them talk to each other; some of them play board games; two boys are fighting and the nurses are trying to separate them.  
>But all of them have one thing in common - they seem like they were all alone, hidden deep down in their own crazy heads.<br>"They spend a few hours a day like this, having their _free time_. Doctor Shuester believes it's healthy. In my opinion, they could use this time for working, but I'm not going to argue with the specialist."  
>There's something like a stage, the rise, on the opposite side of the room. Nothing spectacular, but it catches Sam's attention right away, mostly because of the boy standing in the middle of it - dark-haired and pale, with a delicate apparition and porcelain complexion, breathtakingly beautiful. Sam swallows hard and looks away - it's not the time or place for thoughts like this. It never is.<br>"His parents were exemplary people," he hears the voice of the representative explaining the situation to Karofsky. "Rich Christians, with high morals and reputation. He had a sure, stable future right in front of him. They even the picked his wife-to-be - a beautiful, pious girl. What a shame… It all fell apart when he got caught messing around with some boy in the barn."  
>This one man - Sam assumes it's the Doctor Shuester Karofsky was talking about, he's definitely different from the patients; he's older, calm and doesn't seem like his mind was a piece of barely-conscious shit - is standing in front of this weird, inappropriate stage, talking to the boy, who's listening carefully.<br>The boy stands still, he stands straight, with his chin held up in a provoking gesture, like a beautiful statue. He simply doesn't belong to this place, full of fear and ugliness. Maybe he's not real. Maybe the whole stage isn't real. Maybe nothing is real. Sam is insane after all, isn't he? That's what everyone is saying.  
>One of the patients starts to cry all of a sudden. Desperate howling that chills Sam to the marrow, especially because no one seems to care. It's hard for him to imagine what this person must feel to let out sounds like this; it's hard for him to believe that no one tries to quiet them down as soon as possible.<br>He realizes it must be something completely usual here.  
>"He got sent away for some time, so people could forget, the case could quiet down," the man continues. Sam closes his eyes. Again, they talk about him like he couldn't understand a word, like he had no mind or maybe like he was an animal. He probably <em>is<em> an animal, at least to them. As a disgusting deviant and lunatic he shouldn't expect anything better. "Kid got lucky, because while he was away his family's house burned down. Everyone died in the fire - his mother, father, little brother and sister. He's an orphan."  
>Suddenly Sam hears singing. It's beautiful, like an angels' chorus, like nothing he's ever heard before. He doesn't know the song; he isn't sure if he even fully understands the words, his mind is in too big mess for that right now. He's pretty sure it's rather sad, though. The melody is slow and he can hear some kind of pain and maybe nostalgia in the performer's high-pitched voice. Longing. Shivers go down his spine; he has a lump in his throat. Sam manages to take a deep breath and then he opens his eyes.<br>The boy on the stage sings.  
>Sam wishes he could lose himself in the beautiful sounds, but he can't help hearing <em>them, <em>Karofsky and representative, talking with superiority about his so-called mental breakdown and madness, like feelings like this weren't perfectly normal for someone who lost literally everything and everyone he has ever had.  
>"His legal guardian, whose identity I can't reveal…" the proxy says as Karofsky nods (yes, yes, that's obvious, the whole case is deeply embarrassing, of course) "wants the boy to be cured. From <em>all<em> his problems. Even if it takes drastic methods."  
>As boy keeps singing, two or three patients look up at the stage, then go back to their activities. Sam doesn't understand how everyone can be so indifferent to all this beauty right in front of them. Sam doesn't understand a lot about this place.<br>He can't really force himself to look away, so it's just the matter of time for their, Sam's and the boy's, eyes to meet, for Sam to feel paralyzed once again.  
>He wonders for a second if this boy may possibly be <em>like him <em>and then he realizes it wouldn't change anything at all. They brought him here to _cure_ him. They brought all of them here to cure them.  
>"We have a really great program," Karofsky assures. "Very high effectiveness. We use all possible methods known to medicine and psychology, because every case is different; different therapies work for different patients."<br>Sam isn't sure if the rustle of cash he hears in this moment is only his imagination.  
>"My client wants this case to be resolved quickly and for good," the man's voice goes down as he speaks. "As quickly as possible."<br>Karofsky scratches his head and it would be almost amusing, if it wasn't so tragic; it doesn't take a scientist to notice he doesn't know much about mental illnesses. Sam's mind crosses the thought that maybe he had no preparation, or maybe very little of it, and it seems unpleasantly possible due to the fact that probably there's not a lot of people who would like to work in place like this.  
>He reminds himself of Karofsky's heavy sight on his body. The idea of the reason why Karofsky would like to work here is even more worrying.<br>"We might start him on electroconvulsive therapy in few days."  
>Sam hears something which seems like pleased humming and for the moment he thinks he'll burst out laughing; he's pretty sure this laugh would turn after a second into crying, though.<br>They start discussing money again - Karofsky mentions how putting anyone into things like electroconvulsive therapy isn't easy, that the method seems to slowly die, that there probably will be forgeries, since Shuester is way too understanding when it comes to homosexuals (both men don't approve of that, of course they don't, where is this world going, a few years ago they would just kill without a doubt and the case would be resolved; well, things change), suddenly they start mentioning lobotomy, but they quit the idea quickly; it's obvious they have no idea what they are talking about at all; meanwhile Sam's eyes search for the beautiful boy, who has already stopped singing and walked off the stage. He notices him with the doctor. The physician has a hand on his shoulder; the gesture isn't intimate enough to seem inappropriate, but Sam wonders if it means that the singer has been here for a long time.  
>"Kurt," Karofsky says loudly, so it seems like the deal was made. Sam lets out a deep sigh and notices that this boy who he was looking at, turns out to be, in fact, <em>Kurt<em>; he looks in their direction and, encouraged by Karofsky's gesture, comes closer.  
>And with every step he looks more and more impressive.<br>"Kurt is one of our bigger achievements," Karofsky explains with some kind of satisfaction. "Fully cured from homosexuality. It took only medications and psychotherapy… And time, of course, the factor we don't really have when it comes to Sam."  
>Sam flinches when he hears his own name. He would rather so much more to never hear it again; it makes things real, places him in the middle of all this mess. Reminds him who he used to be just few months ago, maybe even <em>weeks<em>, emphasizes the contrast between _then_ and _now_. _Sam_ doesn't belong here. He's not _Sam_ anymore; he barley remembers who this _Sam_ used to be.  
>"If he's cured, what is he doing here?" the proxy asks, giving Kurt a judgmental and unsure look, which for Sam starts to seem like his regular look.<br>"Even if he's cured from this terrible main disorder," Karofsky explains quickly, "he's still not fully ready to live in society."  
>Kurt stays silent and calm the whole time; he just stands there, not looking at Sam, even if he seems aware that he's staring at him. His hands are behind his back, his chin is (again, or maybe still) up, his eyes - beautiful eyes, a little green and a little blue - definitely aren't empty like a lot of other eyes out there. Yet Sam isn't able to tell anything from them; whatever is going on in Kurt's head, it's going to stay in Kurt's head.<br>"I want you to show Sam around," Karofsky says.  
>"Why me?" He speaks finally, raising one of his eyebrows softly. His voice is quiet, but sure. Sam swallows, he feels incredibly nervous and he has no idea why; it isn't even about the attractiveness, more like something about the general impression Kurt gives - it's not clear for him what kind of impression yet, but for sure a very powerful impression.<br>"Haven't you heard? Sam is going to be cured from the same thing you've had," Karofsky grins maliciously. "You have a great opportunity to show him that the future is bright."  
>The last word sounds in Karofsky's mouth almost like irony. Kurt doesn't bother to answer - he just turns around and walks away gracefully. Sam, rushed by Karofsky, follows him. In that moment he realizes that he just left the proxy - the last element of his life behind the asylum - behind. That he's all alone now.<br>On the other hand, he has been all alone for a long time.  
>Still, it's a new place, place much more complicated than boarding school with everyone plotting behind his back or the hideous cell he had been kept in for some time after his family died. Sam swallows hard at the memory of the funeral - four coffins disappearing in the ground, the priest side-eying him in the most terrible moment of his life, neighbours and far relatives treating the whole event like some big entertaining show.<br>With keeping like Karofsky's Sam might be dead soon, too. Or maybe he might become a vegetable, just a shadow of himself. His mind crosses the thought that maybe being a vegetable after all this pain he has been through wouldn't be so bad; but something inside him immediately refuses to even think this way.  
>Something inside him wants to survive, in harmony with the most basic instincts.<br>They walked out of common room and they are on the hallway again, still dark, still unpleasant, still bringing back the memories of time spent in arrest.  
>Sam takes another look at Kurt, who does a great job ignoring him, and he realizes this boy makes him feel a little like a regular teenager again, despite the circumstances; he's slightly excited, impressed, shy - maybe even <em>blushing<em> and it's the most ridiculous thing of all.  
>"Uhm, so…" he starts, wondering how's the right way to go through this conversation, and that's when Kurt suddenly turns around and stops right in front of him.<br>Sam's heart skips a beat.  
>"I'm not going to babysit you," Kurt hisses right into his face. "Trust me, I have better things to do and definitely no desire to hang out with the newbies." His voice is cold, expression serious; still, Sam likes it so much more than Karofsky's fake smiles. "Is that clear?"<br>The blond opens his mouth to speak, but closes it right away; he just nods meekly.  
>"Good," Kurt answers and opens one of the corridor's door, marked "gym". He calls for someone named Finn.<br>Finn - who walks out after a few seconds, all sweaty, with shallow breath - turns out to be incredibly tall boy around their age, looking - what Sam takes with small disappointment and some kind of relief - completely healthy in his body and his mind. The asylum is full of surprises, crying instead of screaming, stages instead of straitjackets, gyms instead of rooms with no hangs in their doors, Finn and Kurt instead of aggressive lunatics.  
>"What's the matter?" Finn asks. Sam immediately decides that he likes the way he speaks; there's something nice in its timbre. It sounds like brotherhood; Sam used to talk this way to Stevie and Stacey. Before they forbid him to ever speak to them again.<br>"Sam. New. Fag," Kurt introduces him with blank voice. "Could you take care of him?"  
>The boy nods and Kurt walks away without lingering, never looking back. Sam looks after him for a while, unsure. Then he turns to Finn, prepared for the worst. But Finn smiles and his smile is friendly, genuine.<br>"And that was my brother, Kurt," he says and shakes Sam's hand. "Welcome to the nuthouse, Sam."


	2. Plan

He's choking and suffocating and when he finally wakes up he's covered in cold sweat and has tears in his eyes. It's suddenly way too hot under the blanket, so he just shakes it off, breathing heavily.  
>He closes his eyes tight, but it's not helping him in any way; tears are falling slowly down his cheeks, leaving wet marks. His heart is beating loud and fast in weird, unpleasant contrast with the calmness and quiet snoring sounds around him.<br>It's the middle of the night, with complete silence in their common bedroom, but Sam still hears the screaming in the back of his mind. The image of his family being burned alive keeps coming back in his dreams every night, no matter the tiredness after all this work or the medications they've started giving him. He can imagine it all perfectly - the crying of the babies, Stacey's long, curly hair in flames, the smoke in their lungs, Stevie's last cough, his father trying to do something, like real man should, (because of course his father always was a real man, Sam was supposed to be a real man too, but ended up as a disgrace, disgrace should go with flames, not real men, what a terrible shame, yes, it's always a shame), his mother who probably never even woke up due to sleeping pills she has been taking for last few years every night before she went to bed.  
>Sam gets shivers every time someone lights a match.<br>Karofsky noticed that when Sam was working in the kitchen and since then has used this information against him. Anytime they happen to be in one room, he takes the box full of matches out of his pocket with huge, vicious smile and starts to play with them, lighting one after another. During this activity he takes a look at Sam from time to time, just to make sure that he's as uncomfortable as he wants him to be. To be honest, Sam doesn't even need any more reasons to feel uncomfortable around Karofsky - his lustful gaze does all the work.  
>He talked about all his fears and nightmares with doctor Shuester - who turned out to be a friendly man, much more concerned about Sam's grief than his homosexuality - and got assured that things will get better. That he will eventually feel better.<br>Nights like this one make it hard for Sam to believe in that.  
>He tries to stand up, still shaking, his legs weak, and his mind suddenly goes blank - the next thing he knows is that he's lying on the bathroom floor, cheek pressed against cold tile, sobbing quietly.<br>He's a mess and it actually surprises him that no one has used his weakness in any way yet; there was no punch-the-queer games or shoving anybody's dick down his throat; Sam guesses everyone around are too fucked up themselves to care about picking on someone who's going to be half-dead in few days anyway.  
>On the other hand, it may be an effect of the fact that he hangs out with Finn and the other guys from the gym. He has some irrational hope that it might have been Kurt's way of taking care of him, dropping him by Finn's side, that it wasn't only the way to get rid of unpleasant responsibility that Sam was for him. A boy can dream.<br>Sam likes Finn - he's a nice, down-to-earth guy who doesn't look down at anybody, no matter how screwed the case is; he tends to talk a little too much about the future, when he'll be cured and get out of asylum and will get married. Some find it irritating, but Sam doesn't mind at all. Quite the contrary, he enjoys listening to these stories. Finn's hope might have been another factor to bring him down, after the things that he has been through and the things that are still ahead of him, but, surprisingly, it just makes him feel better. It makes him feel like the world didn't end and there's still some chance for happiness out there; even if it's not Sam's happiness.  
>And Sam finds it comforting.<br>"Her name is Rachel" Finn says and Sam sees the spark in his eye and smile on his lips every time he pronounces it. "She's incredible. I believe she'll be there, right behind the gate, waiting for me, the day I'll go out. And the moment I hold her…" his smile widens and he leaves a small pat on Sam's chest, like they were best friends, not two guys who met in mental hospital two days ago. "It will be it. The beginning of our happily ever after. I'm going to spend the rest of my life making her the happiest girl in the world."  
>Sam returns the smile while Puck, another patient, rolls his eyes at this and goes back to his punching bag. "You should just forget about her" he says between the punches. Sam takes his eyes away from Finn and observes as Puck's expression goes soft and concentrated as he falls into some kind of a trance. All of them, all of the patients, are wearing masks and Puck's is very clear; what is unclear is the face he hides behind it, the face that appears, as far as Sam noticed, only during exercises.<br>From what Sam has learnt, Puck isn't someone you would fuck with; most of the patients are scared of him. He's not even crazy, no more than a regular person; he's only here because it was the only way of avoiding prison. Sam isn't sure what Puck exactly did to put himself in situation like this - and something tells him he doesn't really want to know this.  
>Puck and Sam aren't exactly friendly or close; what they share is pretty much a distanced relationship based on some dose of respect Sam gained after their first meeting. Puck made few comments on Sam's sexual preferences before, but blond didn't really mind - what concerned him was Puck's smoking habit. Which was performed against the hospital's rules, anyway. Sam asked him not to do it around him. It's not like Puck gave a damn, not at all. He just called Sam a pussy and assured him that he will do whatever the fuck he wants. What impressed him was the way Sam despite the comments and Puck's reputation simply, without a second thought or uncertainty, took the cigarette out of his mouth and threw it on the ground.<br>It still seems weird for Sam that guy like Finn and guy like Puck are friends; he suspects it's mostly an effect of long hours spend on working out together. Lots of hours in gym means lots of days in mental hospital - the thought crosses Sam's mind, only for him to realize that he doesn't care much anymore. They are all in the same shit.  
>There's also this girl - the only girl who ever appears in the gym - Santana, who has <em>reputation<em>, just like Puck. They have never talked about it, Santana isn't exactly talkative person, but Sam is pretty sure she ended up there because of being too loud, too open-minded; because of being herself. People who don't lie about who they are usually are considered crazy - it's because you really have to be crazy to honestly speak your mind.  
>But Sam also thinks Santana, behind all this bluntness, hides the biggest secret of all - she's in love. Not that Sam knows a lot about love, he doesn't. Sometimes he isn't even sure if homosexuals can love at all; sometime in the past, probably in Church, someone was speaking of love, love which was beautiful, patient and kind, love which protected and triumphed, which was something different than simple lust. And it seemed like the feelings between two men were always brought down only to sinful lust.<br>But besides it all, that's how he imagines love: the way Santana looks at Brittany, the other patient; the way Finn's voice sounds when he talks about Rachel; maybe the way Sam's heart stopped when he's heard Kurt sing for the first time.  
>There was also a second and third time Sam experienced that, with <em>that<em> as Kurt's singing. Finn mentioned that performing like this is a part of Kurt's therapy, which only established Sam's opinion about Shuester as an unusual doctor. According to what Kurt was willing to share with his brother (and hearing that made Sam excited and uncomfortable at the same time, since he wasn't sure if Kurt would be glad of spread of information like this), it seemed like in psychiatrist's opinion Kurt only fully opened up while he was singing.  
>Sam was around during both of these performances. He didn't stare at Kurt so obviously like the day he arrived into the asylum, but he was still amazed. He would have thought that with time he'll get used to the beauty and eventually get bored, but he only became more nervous and frustrated instead.<br>Which lead him to wondering if Kurt was truly cured. There was a lot of things he wanted to ask him about, but he had a feeling Kurt wouldn't like to answer any of these questions. And his quick leave anytime Sam appeared in the same room was the best prove of it.

* * *

><p>The answer comes in his sleep. It burns like fire and tastes like hell.<br>Sam wakes up all sweaty and scared, as always, but this time his mind is clear, lips pursed and wide-open eyes sure. It hits him in the second and he just knows, without a doubt. There's no time for doubt, anyway. His life is shorter than a distance between the first and second thought.

* * *

><p>"I'm going to escape from here," he says, quietly. Santana just looks up at him for a moment and then goes back to polishing her nails, like Sam was a kid telling some story about his imaginary friend and she was a bored adult.<br>Maybe that's exactly what this is.  
>They are the only ones left in the gym - it's dinner time, actually, and they may get in trouble if they won't join the rest of the patients soon. The room seems weird when it's so quiet and empty; the smell of sweat seem even more noticeable and there's a small echo. The whole atmosphere is unpleasant. Especially for plotting.<br>"Are you crazy?" Puck asks and Sam's mind crosses the thought that it's a weird question to ask in mental hospital. "There's no escape from here, Blondie. Trust me, if there was, I would be gone long time ago."  
>Sam isn't surprised by this kind of reaction, but he doesn't lose hope. He hasn't even told them his plan yet, and he's sure it's a pretty good plan. You don't take a risk of sharing intentions like this if your plan isn't a really good one.<br>"Listen." Finn places a hand on Sam's shoulder in comforting way and the boy has to fight the sudden want to shrug it off. Finn's lack of boundaries, pleasant at first, have started to piss Sam off lately. "I understand you're scared, it's completely normal. But you really might get better with time. Give this place a chance."  
>"They don't care about me getting better," Sam answers with sure, but blank voice. He just states a fact. "They don't care about any of us. It's just about money and power and fitting in." He shrugs lightly, deep in his mind enjoying rebellious badass image he's sure he's giving. "When they're done with me, I'm not even going to be a human anymore." The boy takes a look at Santana and directs the next words at her. "And they'll never get you out. You're too honest, it's not convenient for anyone out there."<br>Their eyes meet again; girl gracefully puts the nail file away. She makes a great impression even in old, orange patients' uniform; Sam is sure that in some another life, away from here, every man desired her, every woman wanted to be her and everyone went silent every time she entered the room. "As much as entertaining it would be to bring him down again, Trouty Mouth has a point" she says to the other two boys. "You know what happened to Kurt at this place."  
>"It's not about the place - not fully, at least," Finn interrupts her, but doesn't carry the subject.<br>"Don't you wish you could see Rachel again?" Sam teases him. "Hold her in your arms, like you said? Run away, like you two planned? You don't even know if they ever let you go. You might spend your whole life waiting. Meanwhile Rachel will get older."  
>"Are you trying to tell me she would find herself someone else?" Finn asks, gritting his teeth slightly.<br>"No, of course not," Sam refuses quickly; he doesn't want to piss anyone off. Definitely not after he shared his plan of escaping with them. "What I mean is that, uh, she's all alone. You don't want her to go through her life like this, waiting for you. You were supposed to make her happy until the day she dies. That's not exactly something you can do in mental hospital, right?."  
>"This <em>really<em> may be your only chance to get out of here, man," Puck says and Sam isn't sure where is his comforting tone coming from. Maybe he doesn't want to leave without his friend. Or maybe he knows something more.  
>"Isn't running away from here, like, a death risk?" Finn asks after a short moment of silence.<br>"It's way worse."  
>Sam turns around to notice Kurt leaning casually on the door with his arms crossed. He swallows hard. It's the first time Kurt is actually <em>talking<em> to him or even _not avoiding_ him. Or at least being in the same room without intention of getting out of it as soon as it's possible.  
>"How long have you been here?" Puck asks.<br>"Enough." Kurt stands up straight and takes few steps forwards them. "If they catch you, and they will," he continues his previous thought, "you'll be put through these kind of therapies which will make you wish you were dead."  
>"They can't do that." Finn frowns his eyebrows. "Or can they?"<br>"I strongly believe punishment and setting a good example concerns _them_ more than well-being of some rebellious patient." Kurt keeps moving; he walks in circles around them, slowly, casually, not even looking at any of them for most of the time. "Like in Suzy Pepper's case."  
>"Suzy Pepper?" That's probably the most ridiculous name Sam's ever heard. "Who is she?" he asks.<br>"Nympho. At least she came here as one," Santana shrugs; Kurt didn't even bother to turn to Sam, never mind about answering him. "She was always pretty much fucked up. She tried to run away last year; that little adventure ended with putting her in one of these rooms where beds are improved by few solid belts." She leans in softly. "These wicked howling in the night you might have heard? That's probably Suzy Pepper."  
>"Rebellious patients are very likely to receive stuff like electroconvulsive therapy," Kurt adds. Sam takes a quick look at him; boy is turned profile to him (his profile is perfect, of course it is, everything about Kurt seems perfect), his chin is up again. Sam thinks that keeping his chin up like this is some kind of rebellion, too; but he keeps this kind of thoughts to himself.<br>Sam shrugs. "I'm about to get it anyway; I guess I'm about to receive all possible shit out there, so I have nothing to lose."  
>"Yeah," Kurt finally looks at him. His voice is cold. "You are screwed and probably on your way to become a vegetable. There's no reason to drag others into this." He looks at Finn; his expression softens a little, but it's still very adamant and intolerant of possible opposition. "You should stay away from this, Finn, for your own good."<br>"Listen, I'm not some kind of lunatic," Sam says quickly and decides it wasn't the best choice of words; Kurt is smirking ironically. "I have a great plan. With all the details and shit. It will work."  
>"Oh, yeah?" Puck smiles. "What is this incredible plan then, Trouty?"<br>Sam shakes his head in response.  
>"I'm not stupid," he says, and before anyone cuts in, he continues. "I won't share it all with you if I'm not sure you're in."<br>"How can you be even sure?" Santana asks, raising her eyebrows.  
>"You have to swear," Sam says and suddenly feels a lot like a naive kid. "Swear to God," he adds, but it doesn't make it sound much better.<br>"This is ridiculous," Kurt shakes his head in disdain and turns to Finn again. "I'm not going to let you take part in it."  
>This last sentence changes something; Finn's confused expression changes into slightly offended one. "It's not really your call, Kurt," he says. Sam bites his bottom lip and tries not to smile as tall boy takes a look at him.<br>"I really miss her," he says, softly. Kurt purses his lips, like he's annoyed, but Sam notices some kind of compassion in his eyes and it seems like the most honest thing he has seen in him so far, not counting his performances.  
>"I'm in," Finn nearly whispers, and then adds a little louder, "I swear to God."<br>Sam takes a look at Puckerman; Noah nods right away. "You have no idea how much I want to finally get out of here," he assures. "So, I swear to God."  
>"Santana?" Sam asks. The girl is silent for a while, which makes his heart beat a little faster and his hands sweat slightly.<br>"I'll go" she says. "But only if I can take Brittany with us."  
>"No way," Sam answers a little too fast, before thinking. "It's dangerous to take too many people; if Brittany is supposed to join us, she has to take part in preparations, too."<br>Before he even notices, Santana pushes him at the wall firmly. On one side of his throat he feels her short, but sharp nails thrust into his skin; on the other, her nail-file.  
>"Listen, Blondie," she hisses right into his face. "There's really not a lot of shit I care about in this world," she presses her fingers harder, almost hurting him, "and Brittany happens to be one of these things I won't let go easily. You're screwed, right, that's your fucking problem, and we all can make things even harder for you," her eyes are fulfilled with anger. "But maybe that's exactly what you like, isn't it? Hard things?" She breathes hard for a while; Sam doesn't break the eye contact. Finally Santana calms down a little bit and lets him go. "I'll take part in these whole preparations, fine, whatever. But I want Brittany to stay safe."<br>Sam just nods; he decides that it's way better to have this girl on his side, even with a little compromise, than to have her against him. "You got it," he assures her.  
>Santana crosses her arms; Sam isn't sure if nature of this gesture is self-protective or distanced.<br>"I swear to God, then," she says.  
>Sam takes a look at boys' faces; Puck and Finn seem a little shocked, but they don't comment on anything. Kurt stands away from all of them; Sam isn't able to read anything from his face, but it's not anything new.<br>"And what about you?" he asks. "If you're so concerned about Finn, this may be your only chance to look into the whole situation," he says slowly, carefully, not sure if this technique is a right call when it comes to a person like Kurt.  
>The boy takes a look at his brother; for few seconds they just stare into each other's eyes.<br>"When I say it's over, it's over," Kurt whispers after a while. Finn nods.  
>"Will you swear to God, Kurt?" Santana teases, playfully.<br>Kurt smiles bitterly in answer. "There is no God," he says. Sam feels a lump in his throat again.  
>"So, what is this plan again?" Puck asks, saving them from another moment of silence.<br>The corners of Sam's mouth go up in a little, barely visible smile.  
>"The fire was what brought me here in the first place" he says. "And the fire will be what gets me out of here."<p> 


	3. Map

"A map, fire, a knife, a key," Sam says. "Not literal fire," he corrects himself quickly, foolishly. "Something to start the fire.""But you're not going to burn the whole place down, right?" Finn tries to make sure.  
>"Of course not." Sam feels shivers go down his spine. He would never do that. He was never a killer, not even during hunting, which always caused jokes between his relatives – jokes, which, by the way, ended right after he was caught with another boy. He also has never liked fire. And since his family died, these feelings only strengthened. "It will be a small fire and no one will get hurt," he says. "It's just a distraction, so none of the staff will pay attention to us. Not any kind of danger."<br>"Funny how you're so concerned about everyone's safety, but you still want us to have a knife," Puck notices with a small smile. "Just think about it, lunatics with weapons like this."  
>Sam shrugs in answer. "Just in case of trouble," he says and moves on; the topic of using a knife isn't too comfortable for him. Honestly, he hopes it won't be necessary. "There's only one key we need, right?" he asks.<br>Santana nods. "Karofsky wears it on a chain. Close to his heart," she adds mockingly. "Getting this one will be a hard task – he's very careful when it comes to this key."  
>"I'll take care of it… At least, I hope so." Sam says quietly and then adds, louder. "I think it's easiest to get a map of the hospital and we should start with getting this one… It will be helpful after we start a fire – we need to know all emergency exits and ways out," he explains. "We don't want to suddenly get lost or something in the middle of all this mess. The map is in Karofsky's office."<br>"How do you know?" Puck asks, furrowing his eyebrows slightly.  
>"I noticed it the day I came here. The door was open," Sam answers, not sure what was going through Noah's mind.<br>"Are we going to just take it or what?" Finn comes back to the main topic, slightly confused.  
>"That's a bad idea," Santana says. "No one should know that the patients are up to something."<br>"Xerox machine," Kurt says quietly. "I'm pretty sure it's in Karofsky's office. But it's noisy. We need a good distraction."  
>Sam nods. "I thought about fighting."<br>He takes a quick look at his friends, wondering what would be the best duet for it. He crosses out Santana right away; not because she's not strong enough, but because fighting with a girl seems like a death sentence. The other patients were so far pretty tolerant about his sexual orientation and he wants to keep that privilege. Honor happens to exist even in nuthouse. Thankfully.  
>Puck doesn't seem like a good choice either; Sam isn't sure if Noah would manage to hold himself back enough to not cause too much damage. His muscles, perfectly visible under his clothing, caused a few deaths already and Sam doesn't want his to be the next one.<br>And Finn, even if with the characteristics of a teddy bear, is still one of the tallest, therefore biggest, people Sam has ever seen.  
>He takes a quick look at Kurt, who shakes his head right away (in a graceful way, as always, Kurt seems to be like the definition of grace), before Sam even gets a chance to open his mouth. "I am <em>not<em> going to fight with you," he says.  
>"Sure, right, of course not," Sam agrees quickly. "But you know, I wouldn't hurt you or anything," he assures him.<br>Kurt smiles slightly, ironically. "That's not what I'm concerned about."  
>Sam feels his cheeks reddening; he grits his teeth slightly. He knows what Kurt is thinking about, and yes, Sam's… slight attraction to him might be visible, but it's not like he was about to act on it in any way. And Kurt, as an ex-homosexual, should know that.<br>Understand.  
>But, on the other hand, the fact that Kurt doesn't exactly want to understand nor help him shouldn't be a surprise.<br>Sam mumbles something like 'whatever' and turns to Finn, who just nods slightly in answer to the unasked question.  
>"So we'll start fighting and make a lot of noise," the blond continues. "They'll try to separate us right away, so it will be hard to keep going. Maybe we'll end up with some shots to calm us down or in straightjackets. You really need to hurry, guys."<br>Santana turns to Puck, who answers to this action by looking straight into her eyes - he shows her respect this way, just like how Kurt avoiding Sam's eyes shows his lack of it.  
>Santana and Puck are similar and seem to understand each other well - and it makes Sam feel like, of all people, she is the one who's the closest to know what's beneath Puck's mask. "You'll make a copy," she says. "I'll hang around the office and… keep <em>busy<em> anyone who could possibly make an attempt to stop us." She fixes her shirt to present her ways of keeping people busy. Sam wasn't even aware it was possible to show that much chest in this outfit.  
>"I'll stay with Finn and Evans in common room," Kurt announces and Sam is pretty sure it's the first time he ever said anything about him. A few more meetings and maybe he'll even say something <em>to<em> Sam. "When Karofsky wants to leave, I'll delay him a little," he finishes.  
>"Seems like a plan," Puck sums up, smiling.<br>Sam licks his lips nervously, but he also feels a little excited. Yeah, it does seem like a plan.

* * *

><p>Expect for the moment when the whole plan goes to hell.<br>Santana gives him a quick look across the room as Sam furrows his eyebrows.  
>"What now?" Finn whispers nervously, barely moving his lips.<br>Sam has no idea. The problem is – ironically – that Karofsky just came in here, to the common room. With no reason at all, against all they've learned about him so far. This part of the day, he usually spends in his office, pretending to work - in reality doing who knows what, maybe sleeping or jerking off. Their plan in the first place was to make a mess which would bring Karofsky here; they didn't suspect at all that he would appear on his own. It was sort of paralyzing. They weren't ready for that. Sure, they could start fighting anyway, but something holds Sam back. Maybe just the idea of Finn beating the shit out of him, maybe something deeper.  
>Then the guardian, if you can even call Karofsky that, takes out of his pocket a box – a box with matches that Sam recognizes right away, the one that appears in his nightmares – and it gives the boy some clue about what he should do. Whatever the reason of Karofsky's presence would be, at this moment it's about Sam. Making Sam feel uncomfortable, to be precise. And Sam simply must use <em>that<em> – the fact that he's, at least for the moment, in center of Karofsky's attention, without even trying. And Karofsky's attention was, after all, what they needed.  
>"Hold on," he says and stands up. Finn looks after him, surprised, as Sam makes his way to Karofsky.<br>"May we talk, sir?" he asks, hoping that _sir_ doesn't sound like an insult in his mouth. Karofsky has lighted his match already and a fire starts to slowly burn his fingers (Sam's heart starts to beat a little faster and he wonders how he'll even start a fire if he can't handle a single match, it's just a motherfucking match) before he blows it out. He's clearly surprised that Sam came up to him, but the corners of his mouth twist in a little, slightly ironic smile which makes Sam sick to his stomach.  
>"Well, if you <em>have to,<em>" he says, like he was incredibly pitiful. "Talk, Evans."  
>Sam swallows a bit and takes a deep breath. "But not here." Maybe it's insanity.<br>Karofsky raises his eyebrows. "Why wouldn't we talk in here?" he asks, trying to hide the interest in his voice. Sam realizes, once again, that he hates the supervisor – from the bottom of his heart – and he would love to stay as far away from him as possible. Under current conditions, though, he has no privilege to let opportunity like this go.  
>"I believe you would deem it a private conversation, sir," he says, having no idea what exactly he's doing, but he has a feeling it may work, so he just goes on.<br>Karofsky looks at him for a moment in complete silence, which makes Sam slightly doubt his ability to figure out what's going on in Karofsky's head. "My office, then," he says finally.  
>"No," Sam answers quickly, though a little relieved. "I'd really rather it be a more… Neutral place. Maybe with… thicker walls," he adds slowly, carefully. It's like walking on a thin line; if you're too provocative, you might end up dead. If you're not provocative enough, you don't achieve anything. Pretty much every conversation he's had since he arrived to asylum has been like this – and it's all incredibly exhausting.<br>(Something in Sam wishes he could finally be himself; at least for a minute. Something deep down in his heart dares to dream to be himself around Kurt and his mind just laughs bitterly at this idea; it's the kind of laugh that sounds like howling.)  
>"How choosy of you, Evans," Karofsky shakes his head softly. "I'm not sure if I want to deal with your whims."<br>"Maybe it would be easier for you if I took my shirt off," Sam hisses quietly, but is pretty sure that Karofsky heard him; that Karofsky listens very carefully. He doesn't answer, though – they just leave the room and right before they do it, Sam turns for a second to Santana and nods. From this moment on, Sam alone buys them time.

* * *

><p>"So, what do you want, Evans?" Karofsky asks as they enter the room. "And why does announcing that take an empty bathroom?"<br>"I know," Sam says quickly.  
>"Amazing." Karofsky smiles meanly. "So, what exactly do you know?"<br>"I know I'm not half as insane as you make it look," Sam starts. "I know the deal between you and proxy. I was conscious enough to understand. I know you use patients. I know you take bribes. I know you lie to doctors. You're a fraud." He takes a deep breath. "I know you're gay. I can see the way you look at me. The way you try to get my attention… I know it all."  
>Sam takes a deep breath, and for the moment it's his main thought; breathe in, breathe out.<br>After a moment of silence, Karofsky shakes his head slowly. "Life could have been so much easier for you, Blondie," he says, taking step closer towards Sam. "The teacher's pet always has an easier life, even if by tiny, little bit. Especially when their situation is as fucked up as yours." He smiles. It's the kind of smile that gives Sam nausea. "You're all alone. Unwanted. Who knows, maybe if you used your _assets_, you wouldn't end up in this whole therapy." His hands ghosts on Sam's arm. The gesture isn't intimate, but the boy fights temptation to shake it off as soon as his fingertips touch his skin; not yet, he tells himself.  
>"I mean, sure, money is important," Karofsky continues. "So are promises. On the other hand, no one needs to know. Why would anyone need to know that Sam Evans didn't get his long awaited electricity? Like, you know," another step closer, "who would tell…? What do you think about it?"<br>"You have a lot of these thoughts on your mind, don't you?" Sam asks, looking straight into his eyes; he's not scared. Not of Karofsky, at least. "So-called promises. Forgeries ruining lives. Or ending them."  
>Karofsky shakes his head, a smile still on his lips.<br>"You know what? Maybe this is even better," he says. "I like them when they fight. Almost as much as I like watching them break down. Slowly losing hope. Letting go."  
>"Dying," Sam suggests. "Turning into empty shells."<br>"You know, not really." Karofsky takes the box out of his pocket and lights another match. "What's up with you and this whole dying thing anyway? Soft spot, huh?" He blows the fire out and continues, "After a really well-done breakdown, people hope for the emptiness you're so scared of. Consciously or not. I find it interesting that you _still_ have some will, actually. I guess the death of your entire family didn't upset you that much, am I right?"  
>Sam purses his lips, counting to ten in his mind. He can't hit Karofsky - he wouldn't win with Karofsky anyway and the others need time to copy the map.<br>"You can say whatever you want. You won't break me," he says quietly. "Or have me," he adds.  
>"We'll see about that," Karofsky answers. "Sooner than you think, I guess. It's not like you have a lot of time to spare."<br>Karofsky lights another match. Sam blows it out immediately.  
>Their eyes meet.<p>

* * *

><p>Kurt pushes Sam at the wall and leans on him heavily, pressing him to it with his side. He's strong - not strong enough to beat Sam in any way, but strong for his size and being crushed like this, especially from surprise, hurts Sam a little bit.<br>"You're not a motherfucking hero," the other boy hisses. "So stop acting like you are one."  
>Sam left the gym literally seconds ago. They, the <em>gang,<em> met up there after they got the map. It was kind of a small celebration, a celebration during which they couldn't even speak too loud, afraid of being caught. Puck showed off the map a little, proud of making such an excellent copy. He had reasons to be pleased about it; from what Sam saw, everything was perfectly clear, just like they needed.  
>Santana was smiling a lot - funnily, it seems to Sam like it was the first time she smiled (she looked much younger, she looked really beautiful and he felt some kind of overwhelming sadness that they live in the world with so little happiness; just because smiles like that are being hidden) - and already started planning how to get the rest of the needed items. She didn't go into detail yet, though - they didn't have time for that. Curfew was coming.<br>Finn patted Sam's back - a lot - and asked how he managed to keep Karofsky away for so long. Sam didn't give them much of a satisfying answer, he just mentioned that they talked about a few secrets that were born as Sam came into the asylum. "No details, amigos, but also no worries," he said. "This one is going to stay between Karofsky and me, at least for now."  
>Clearly it wasn't satisfying enough for Kurt.<br>"I don't know what you are talking about," Sam answers, wondering why no one is even checking the hall. What's the point of being in asylum if, at any moment, some freak might kill you in front of a gym and no one gives a shit?  
>Kurt laughs quietly. "You're so full of yourself," he says with some kind of aversion. "We had a plan - we, as a team - and then you blew everything up, went to Karofsky as if it was no big deal, ignoring all of us, and kept him away doing God knows what." He lets him go.<br>Sam stands straight and massages his arm, which got hurt the most when he got pushed against the wall. "I thought you said there's no God," he says.  
>Kurt ignores this answer completely. "We don't care about you," he continues his previous thought. "We don't care how courageous and brave you're going to be and how are you going to show off or whatever. No one is going to be thankful and you're not going to become a leader of any kind, if that's what you're aiming for. We're all taking a risk here - and we deserve to know what the fuck is going on."<br>Kurt's voice is calm and sure as he talks, but he breathes fast, like after a long run. He's angry, angry enough to let it show, even if so far he has seemed like a master of hiding all his emotions. Finally, after a moment of silence, he takes a deep breath.  
>"Did you fuck him?"<br>Sam tries hard not to laugh. He feels weirdly flattered by this interest, even if he knows that it's not even an interest and Kurt is probably worried about being a team player. The risk connected with fucking Karofsky, or something like that. Screwing them all. Loving the enemy. Or just plain disgust. Lots of possibilities, none to feel flattered by. "What kind of question is that?" he asks.  
>"What else could you two be doing?" Kurt raises an eyebrow. "Somehow I don't see you two having a friendly chat."<br>Sam blinks blankly. He wonders if Kurt noticed the matches or the looks Karofsky has been giving him. He wonders if noticing that would mean Kurt actually pays any attention to him. He wonders why the fuck he won't stop obsessing over it finally.  
>"We were just talking, <em>really<em>. I let him know that I'm aware of his… tendencies." Sam shivers slightly.  
>Kurt shakes his head. "Somehow I don't see that being safe," he says and walks away. Sam follows him immediately, without a second thought.<br>"How do you even know he's…into that?" he asks, lowering his voice.  
>Kurt chuckles in answer. "<em>Please<em>" he says.  
>The whole conversation started with some kind of an attack, but weirdly, it still goes on somehow. And Sam wants to keep it that way.<br>"Did he, like…" He looks for the right words. "Make any moves on you? When you were gay?"  
>"It's none of your business," Kurt answers, but after a while adds, "Karofsky isn't exactly a subtle one. Or a patient one. Or an understanding one. Do whatever you have to do - fuck him or confront him or whatever, but don't tease."<br>Sam swallows slightly. "I think teasing might be actually the way of getting out of here." Kurt doesn't even look at him, but he continues slowly, "He agreed to leave the room and not come back into the office because he expected… Something. I think he likes me - my body, I mean."  
>"Why are you still talking to me?" Kurt suddenly asks, a little angrily.<br>"Well, like minute ago you wanted to know." Sam smirks to himself, hoping the other boy won't notice. "I'm actually blackmailing him a little. I know more of his dirty secrets than just being queer and bullying the patients."  
>"Do you want a fucking cookie because of that?" Kurt smiles ironically. "Pat on a back from Finn? I'm sure he would be delighted to offer this kind of reward."<br>Sam's smile disappears right away.  
>"You're playing with fire," Kurt says, entering the bedroom. "At the end of the day, you're nothing and you know that. Your word doesn't matter, you're a patient in a nuthouse. You're a dick-loving, heavily-grieving, so-called-dangerous insane boy who will probably become a vegetable by the end of the week. They can do whatever they want with you, and no one is going to care much, especially your family, who put you here in the first place, but, hey - congrats on being so incredibly smart and knowing that Karofsky is even more of an asshole than he appears at first sight."<br>Kurt walks away again; and, like the last time, he never looks back.


	4. Fire

The plan is really simple; the plan is Santana's.  
>The next day is Sunday and Sunday is always special, whether you're a father of a family of three or just a patient in the nuthouse. It's a day without work, so lunatics have more free time to cry in the corners, or to stare blankly into the windows, or try to tear their hair out. The lazy atmosphere dominates; the doctors hate their lives even more than usual.<br>But Sunday is also a day of holy mass.  
>"There's this one doctor," Santana explains to them in the morning. "He always wants to sit next to me in the church." She plays with her nail file. "For obvious reasons."<br>"Are you fucking him?" Puck asks, raising his eyebrows.  
>"None of your business, Puckerman." Santana threatens him with the file, but her eyes are sad. "Anyway," she continues, "he's a smoker. He <em>always<em> has a lighter with him, just in case he needed to chill a little bit. And as I have the full access to his pants – and by pants I mean his pockets, Puckerman, p-o-c-k-e-t-s – you have nothing to worry, folks." She smiles softly, ironically, and that makes Sam wonder how much pain is hidden behind her expression.  
>"Are you sure you can handle it on your own?" Finn asks, concerned. "We are a team, we should help you."<br>"Yeah, like the whole distractions business we planned before…" Sam starts foolishly before he realizes what he said.  
>"And look how it ended, Blondie." Santana raises her eyebrows. "You handled it all by yourself. Are you trying to suggest me I don't have a guts for that?" she adds, half-joking.<br>Sam feels Kurt's eyes on his back; he almost hears this _I told you so_.  
>"Still, it's not like I did it all by myself," he reminds. "I was a distraction. You guys did the job. You kind of want to do everything on your own."<br>"So what do you suggest, Trouty Mouth?" she asks, a little irritated already. "Are you volunteering to suck his dick? Because I have a weird feeling that he wouldn't be as much into this as you would."  
>Sam also has a feeling that Santana wouldn't either. But he keeps this thought to himself.<p>

The chapel reminds him a lot of common room, with the altar as the stage; all of it also reminds him seeing Kurt for the first time and his angelic singing voice.  
>Today he tries to keep his mind away from Kurt, though. Away from all the boys. For a long time he wasn't welcomed in any church – even here, in a place full of crazy people, he still gets a slight side-eying – and it somehow feels nice to attend one again; after all, religion was always a huge part of his life, one of many parts that have been taken away from him.<br>Sam closes his eyes and listens to the holy word, dreaming of life where all the truths are accurate to reality and easy to fulfill; life is simple, Santana gets down on her knees only to pray, Finn makes Rachel happy until the day she dies, Puck can wash the blood out of his hands and Sam can be in love without the fear of the flames, hell's and earth's.  
>Seeing Kurt sitting on a bench in front of the chapel is a surprise, but the fact that he stands up as Sam walks off is even a bigger surprise.<br>"Santana?" he asks, and Sam just shakes his head.  
>"She told me we'll meet in the gym in half an hour," he says, quietly, feeling guilty for whatever she did.<br>Kurt nods. Sam licks his lips nervously; once again he has an opportunity to talk to Kurt, once again Kurt starts the conversation himself.  
>"Is she…" Sam makes some undefined gesture with his hand. "<em>You know?<em>" he asks. Kurt sighs and doesn't bother answering; Sam guesses he understands and thinks it's none of Sam's business.  
>"Are you two friends?" he tries another question, following Kurt as he walks away down the hall.<br>"Why do you care?" the boy asks.  
>"Maybe you're unfamiliar with the concept," Sam answers, "but some people actually are interested in others. Want to get to know them. Talk to them for a purpose other than just calling them idiots."<br>"In a place like this, that's what makes them idiots – not that I ever actually called you an idiot." Kurt turns around for a second. "Not that I don't think you're an idiot."  
>"Not that you do," Sam teases. "You wouldn't waste so much time and attention on an idiot."<br>"What if it's the idiot in charge?" he asks. "And my life depends on him?"  
>The hall is empty; through the windows, placed high, Sam sees it's a beautiful, sunny day. If they weren't isolated, he would love to come out for a bit.<br>Kurt turns around, his face perfectly neutral, and once again Sam feels overwhelmed by his beauty; he swallows hard. "I think you wouldn't allow that, even if you had to wrench Finn away from us and lock him in the janitor's closet."  
>The corners of Kurt's mouth move slightly; Sam wonders if it could have been a smile.<br>"Maybe," he says softly and reaches into his pocket; Sam's heart skips a beat as he takes the box out of it. A familiar box.  
>"How did you get it?" he asks as Kurt slowly takes the match out of it.<br>"I stole it, obviously," he answers. "Yesterday evening, after dinner, he shoved me. It was a little payback, I guess. Too bad there's no way to start a fire with box of matches; Santana wouldn't have to do _this_." He looks at Sam. "You hate it, don't you? That's why Karofsky has been playing with these lately. To piss you off."  
>Sam nods, not taking his eyes off the little stick in Kurt's long fingers. "He knows my family died in the fire," he confesses.<br>Kurt frowns his eyebrows. "I thought they put you there. That you set the house on fire or something."  
>Sam shakes his head slowly, swallowing hard; he feels a lump in his throat again. "It was my uncle or someone like that. He was my legal guardian after I became an orphan. They didn't want to deal with a homosexual."<br>"And you want to set this place on fire…" Kurt says slowly; Sam doesn't even bother explaining that the fire is not supposed to hurt anyone. "You want to start a fire and you can't handle a simple match." He lights it in a quick, sure manner. The fire starts with a little hiss. Kurt puts the match in front of the other boy's face.  
>Sam looks at him across the fire, nervous and slightly puzzled.<br>"Do it," Kurt says, looking right into his eyes. "Or I'm gonna get burned."  
>Sam licks his lips, suddenly dry, and takes the deep breath; he blows the fire out.<br>Kurt doesn't take the eyes off the other boy's face; Sam looks back at him and for the moment they just stand there in silence.  
>"It's not about you" Kurt whispers, handing him the box, and Sam, lighting another match, wonders who's he's trying to assure; Sam or himself.<p>

Santana is playing with the lighter, turning it on and off, pleased with herself, obviously proud.  
>"I hope everything turned out alright?" Sam asks, and she smiles slightly in answer.<br>"I'm good, Trouty," she says. "I didn't even have to do much. Turns out – again – that my legs are as good a distraction as my boobs. Plus, he was after night shift."  
>Sam takes the lighter from her and hides it with the map in an old, empty box after fire-extinguisher. It's broken and practically unable to open; it's a keepsake from the time staff didn't realize that putting patients in one room with heavy objects like this one isn't a good idea. Sam is pretty positive the dark mark on the frame is somebody's blood.<br>"Halfway there," Finn smiles. "When do we do the rest?"  
>Sam lets out a little smirk. "I think we can rest for the end of the day – it's a Sunday, after all."<br>"Rest from _what_?"  
>Sam turns around to see Karofsky standing in the door. His heart nearly stops; all he can do is hope that he wasn't here long enough to <em>know<em>.  
>"Working out, of course," Puck saves them. "What else you can do at the gym?" he asks with a little smile.<br>"You tell me," Karofsky answers. "For sure you guys spend a lot of time here lately." He comes into the room and closes the door behind him, giving the situation slightly claustrophobic feel. "Ever since Evans appeared, am I right?"  
>Sam forces an innocent smile. "What can I say?" he says, "I love exercises."<br>"I'm sure of it," Karofsky hisses and continues his previous thought. "Actually, a lot happens since you came here."  
>The boy feels Kurt's disapproving sight on him as he mumbles bitterly, "the life of the party".<br>"Like, for example, I'm pretty sure someone was in my office the other day," Karofsky goes on. "My map seems to hang a little awry."  
>Finn and Puck share a very quick glare; they turn their heads right away, hoping Karofsky didn't notice. Kurt wraps his arms around himself, his face blank.<br>"Or yesterday," Karofsky says, coming a little closer to the blond, "I lost something. Do you have any idea what I've might lost, Evans?" he asks.  
>Sam swallows slightly. "No idea, sir," he answers.<br>Karofsky shakes his head. "Too bad," he says. "Because I have a feeling this item was very recognizable for you… And, you know, I think I've heard one of the doctors complaining how he lost his lighter… Ring any bells?"  
>"Not really," Sam shakes his head.<br>"Missing stuff," Karofsky continues, ignoring Sam. "Not good."  
>"Definitely not," Sam agrees.<br>Suddenly, Karofsky punches him in the guts; Sam lets out a little moan and crouches down from pain.  
>"I have no idea what the fuck is going on here," the guardian says, angrily, "but I want it to stop – and I want it to stop right now."<br>The only answer is silence and Sam's heavy breathing. Santana bites softly on her perfectly shaped nail; Puck and Finn just stare, not sure if they should make any moves.  
>Kurt's expression stays completely blank the whole time.<br>"I hope the message is clear," Karofsky adds, as a final word.  
>"It is," Santana says quickly.<br>"Crystal clear," Kurt speaks quietly; the fact that he spoke seems to surprise Karofsky a bit; he stares at the boy for a second and then he leaves the room.  
>The doors close behind Karofsky. For a moment they all just stand there in silence. Sam manages to stand up, feeling better, but still shocked. Santana looks a little like she is about to tear up, and that scares the shit out of Sam; seeing her break down would be the most terrible thing, and he doesn't know if any of them would be able to take that.<br>Finn takes a deep breath, but before he manages to speak, Kurt interrupts.  
>"It's over," he announces, not taking objections. "I told you it's over when it gets too dangerous. And it just did. We're done here."<br>"No, Kurt," Finn answers, shaking his head. "We're too close to get out of here. We have the map, the fire, we _can't_ stop now."  
>"That's our only chance…" Sam manages weakly, but Kurt cuts him off right away.<br>"No, it's _your _only chance." He grits his teeth. There's a fire in his eyes, but also desperation and fear. "Yeah, sucks for you, we get it. That doesn't mean we all have to stick our necks on the line."  
>"Kurt," Finn starts, his voice soft, almost begging. "In few days we might be free again, I-I… I may see Rachel again and…"<br>"She's dead, Finn!" Kurt screams, brutally, desperately. Suddenly there are tears in his eyes, he shakes his head hopelessly. "Rachel died. You know Rachel died, but you can't let it go. And now you're about to risk your life and kill yourself for something that's long gone. I'm not letting you."  
>Finn closes his eyes tight and takes a few deep breaths as silence in the room grows. Sam is pretty positive he can hear his heart, beating fast. His mind is a mess. Tears are steaming down Kurt's face, but he doesn't even bother to wipe them off.<br>"It's not your call," Finn says finally after few moments, his voice calm, but clearly cold and hurt. The boy turns his head back to Sam. "I'm with you, Trouty," he assures him. "And I know how to get a knife."  
>Sam feels Kurt's eyes on him; he's begging without words; the anger is gone – it's just realization that he's helpless. And despair. Sam thinks about the face behind the fire, the long fingers, the voice of an angel, and his heart trembles.<br>But Sam simply can't give up, not now. They have gone too far.  
>He nods slowly to Finn and next thing he hears is the loud slam of the door behind Kurt.<br>It's all awkward now; none of them know what to say, nothing feels appropriate. Sam has a lot of questions, but he doesn't dare to ask any of them. Finn opens his mouth few times to speak, but doesn't say anything. Finally, he shakes his head, more to himself than any of them, and walks out of the room, kicking one of the chairs on his way out.  
>Sam takes a deep breath.<br>"Why didn't you tell me?" He looks at Puck, then at Santana, then at Puck again. "Did you know that?" he asks when neither of them answers.  
>Puck just shrugs, like it's no big deal. "Everybody knows that," he says casually. "But that's not exactly the kind of thing we're talking about."<br>"So that's Finn's deal?" Sam feels a lump in his throat. "He thinks Rachel is alive?"  
>Santana rolls her eyes softly. "He doesn't <em>think<em> that," she says. "He just keeps lying to himself about this."  
>"I don't really see the difference," Sam answers, his voice suddenly way more angrier than he intended it to sound.<br>Santana just stares right into his eyes. "I think you do," she answers calmly. Her tone is sure and powerful. Sam can't stand the sight; he turns his head to Puck again.  
>"How did that happen?" he asks.<br>Puck sighs. "Rachel was Jewish" he starts, like it changes anything. "She had an arranged marriage with some other Jew. And soon before the wedding she met Finn and they, as he stated, fell in love. They had a plan to run away together, but before that happened, her fiancé found out about the affair and killed her in rage." Puck stops for a moment, and then continues. "Finn lost his mind due to grief and sadness. From what I've heard, he closed himself in a room for weeks and cried. And then he tried to commit the suicide."  
>Sam swallows hard. It doesn't sound unfamiliar at all.<br>"Too bad, it didn't work out. Don't get me wrong, we're friends, Finn and I," he assures him quickly. "But after all this misery behind him and with the future in asylum…" He shakes his head. "It would be so much easier for him to just end it all back then."  
>"After this attempt of killing himself," Puck continued, "he got worse. Some kind of hallucinations started – he started to think that Rachel was still alive, safe and sound; he talked to her and got aggressive anytime anyone tried to make him realize he's gone. After he beat up his own mother, or something like that – I don't know the details – he got here."<br>"And what about Kurt?" Sam asks.  
>"Kurt?" Puck is surprised. "What about him?"<br>"Finn told me they are brothers."  
>Puck laughed bitterly. "You <em>do<em> believe everything, don't you?" he asks, and then continues talking, not waiting for Sam to answer. "Finn and Kurt ended up here around the same time, both terribly screwed up. They bonded over their broken hearts and with time started to treat each other like a family. That's how they became – as they put it – 'two brothers from another mother'."  
>"Broken hearts?" Sam repeats, surprised. "Kurt was broken-hearted?"<br>"Duh." Puck raises his eyebrows. "I don't know much," he says quickly. "But, from what I've heard, his lover boy was the one who put him here."  
>Sam closes his eyes – it's a little too much information at once. Rachel is dead? Finn is crazy? Finn and Kurt aren't brothers? Kurt used to be in love with someone?<br>"They lived together, like a marriage," Puck is willing to continue, but Sam asks him to shut the fuck up. He doesn't want to hear it; the idea of betrayal like this make him sick to his stomach, he doesn't need any more details.  
>"Chill, Evans," Santana tries to calm him down. "Yeah, all of it is a lot to handle, but now you know, so take it like a man and stop whining; shake it off, find Finn." She takes one step closer towards him. "And plan how to get a knife, so we can finally get the fuck out of here."<p>

Finn sits on one of hospital's benches when Sam finds him; he stares blankly into the window.  
>It's still a beautiful day, even if it ends slowly; the sky goes slightly orange-ish and the clouds start to appear on the horizon. The evening carries the promise of breathtaking sunset.<br>"Can I…?" Sam asks. Finn nods slightly, so he sits next to him. For a moment they just look at the world outside the window – at the _freedom_, so close and so far away at the same time - and Sam looks for the right words to capture what's on his mind.  
>"I'm sorry," he says finally. "You really love her."<br>Finn smiles slightly, sadly. "Yeah," he agrees. "I do." He looks at Sam. "And always will."  
>Sam feels pain in his heart; the love he has heard so much about, the promise of better tomorrow, turned out to be just a beautiful memory. What he hoped to be future was stuck in the past forever.<br>"I hope for love like this someday," Sam confesses. "Even if it's full of pain for you now. I think loving like this makes things a little more… sensible."  
>"You'll find it," Finn promises. "Someday."<br>"You think so?" Sam smiles sadly. "Even with my… _tendencies_?" he asks.  
>Finn shrugs a little. "Well, Kurt found someone," he says slowly. "It wasn't the love of his life or happily ever after, not what I had with Rachel, and it ended terribly, but they were <em>together<em> and it was… Something." He looks at Sam. "And if that something happened, I see the possibility of real love, too." He looks at the world behind the window again. "Why not, you know?"  
>Sam licks his lips nervously. "I guess it was very painful for Kurt. Being with someone… And being cheated like that."<br>"He was a mess," Finn says. "Heartbreak, no will to live anymore… They were in trouble, you know. Someone found out. Threatened them. So Blaine broke it off, and, eventually…" He wonders for a while. "Do you think being a coward makes somebody a bad person?" he asks.  
>"Being a coward, no, but selling someone and betraying him like this due to being a coward…" Sam swallows hard. "Someone who loved you…"<br>The silence grows again; it's not unpleasant, though. Sad, but full of understanding.  
>"We'll run away, Finn," Sam promises.<br>Finn smiles. "And I'll meet her again."  
>Sam freezes.<br>Finn looks at him, still smiling. "I'm sorry about what happened with Kurt, what he said" he says. "It must have confused you… It happens sometimes. I don't know why he keeps saying she's gone. It hurts, you know? Especially when I know she's still waiting somewhere out there…"  
>Sam feels tears in his eyes; he blinks few times, trying to make them disappear. He bits his bottom lip and touches Finn's arm gently.<br>"I'm sure she's waiting for you," he says. "As impatient as you are, hoping to spend the rest of her life with you."  
>Sam isn't going to judge. He knows better than anyone that reality is sometimes too terrifying.<p>

It's a middle of the night in their common room.  
>Sam can't sleep, and it's not like it's anything new. The new thing is - the reason of his insomnia is different than usual. He doesn't think about the fire or death; he thinks about life. Life that he imagined and he hoped for, life that was never meant to happen, and that got him thinking about his own life. He wanted to get out of here. He wanted to be free. He wanted to love. But leaving the asylum was only the beginning of all these challenges, and he kept asking himself…<br>What then? Because he saw a beautiful, singing boy and since then he has been stuck. Because he doesn't have enough balls to confront him about these feelings; he keeps hoping and looking for a deeper sense instead of setting up things straight.  
>Sam looks at Kurt's bed, placed on the other side of the room, and at the boy in it, sleeping in a shallow slumber. Quietly he slips out of his covers and silently pads across the room towards him, listening carefully, making sure everyone else's sleep is much deeper than Kurt's – finally, he puts his hand on Kurt's mouth. He reacts right away, opening his eyes, shocked, biting him before he even looks at him - and seeing who woke him up in the first place doesn't make him any calmer. He actually makes an attempt to hit Sam, so the blond simply sits on him and grabs his wrists, trying to make him immobile; Kurt's mouth is free, but he doesn't scream.<br>"Fuck" he whispers, looking right at Sam. "What the hell are you doing?"  
>Sam doesn't answer, but after another next few seconds of fight leans in a little, so they can be face to face – and Sam feels extreme satisfaction from having such a beautiful face right in front of his own. The smaller still boy struggles for a while, trying to break free, but he has no chance to succeed - he might have shoved Sam the other day from surprise, but it doesn't change the fact he's much weaker.<br>"I'm going to scream" he warns angrily. "You'll end up in a fucking straitjacket."  
>"No, you're not" Sam smiles slightly to himself. "You would have already done that by now. Obviously there's something keeping you from doing it."<br>He leans in even more; Kurt feels his warm breath on his lips. He could have kissed him if he wanted to.  
>"You're not cured" Sam whispers, staring right into Kurt's eyes. "You never were cured. You're as queer as you were the day you came here." Sam is nervous about the next thing he's about to say, but he doesn't let it show; his voice is confident, sure. "That's why you were so cold to me. That's why you kept your distance. Because you wanted to fuck me from the start. Because I reminded you of what you are."<br>Kurt raises his eyebrows softly; Sam isn't sure if the gesture is genuine or maybe that's just another game they play. Or maybe the game has suddenly become reality again. "Don't be so sure of yourself" he says quietly. "There's a lot of reasons to dislike you different other than willingness to have sex with you."  
>Sam kisses him, slowly, deeply. His tongue runs through bottom lip and licks its way inside Kurt's mouth. The other boy lets out the a little moan as Sam bites his lip gently.<br>Kurt doesn't ask him to stop.  
>"You think you're so smart" Sam relaxes one of his hands; Kurt's wrist is free, but he doesn't move. Sam's fingers trace hot trails on Kurt's neck, then chest. "That you can pretend they made you normal; that they will eventually set you free." His hand slides into the other boy's pants and Sam starts to jerk him off. Kurt closes his eyes and separates his lips softly. "They won't." Sam whispers into his mouth with another kiss, relaxing the grip around Kurt's dick and moving his hand up to play with the edge of his pyjama bottoms, sliding them softly off Kurt's hip only to pull them back again.<br>His other hand releases its grip on Kurt and the other boy is free; he puts his hands on Sam's cheeks, pulling him closer into the kiss. Sam could lose himself into the gesture completely, let things happen, but he knows it's not the time yet. He's not done talking.  
>"They see you" Sam says quietly; with this sentence his voice went soft, his mask fell off. "Not as well as I do, but enough to tell you're not…" He can't find the words, especially because Kurt is looking at him, he's looking into Sam's eyes and he's beautiful, just like the first time, when he sang; his mask fell off as well and the relief is incredible. "Run away with me." He whispers, almost holding his breath. "We could be happy, we could be free. It's the only hope… Run away with me, Kurt" he repeats.<br>Kurt kisses him and this kiss is different; soft and sweet, full of something that seems a lot like love.  
>"I will run away with you, Sam."<br>And that's how suddenly Kurt made him _Sam_ again; not "trouty mouth", not "fag", but _Sam_, the boy who got lost somewhere a very long time ago.  
>Sam isn't the only one who's himself again; looking into the other boy's eyes Sam sees Kurt looking back at him; (the) <em>Kurt<em> he saw on the stage very first day. _Kurt_, which (the boy who) Sam thought was long gone.  
>Sam breathes deeply, a little desperately, as if it was his first breath, and hides his face in the crook of Kurt's neck, a little more like a child than a lover. It feels for him like an the end of something, it feels like a weight has been lifted off his chest and suddenly he's deeply exhausted. Kurt embraces him warmly, but surely, like he didn't want to let him go anymore. He leaves a soft kiss on Sam's cheek.<br>"There's nothing we can do" he whispers, catching Sam's lips into the kiss again, his practical thinking back. "It's too dangerous. Someone might hear us. To be honest, you being in my bed right now isn't the best idea either." Kurt smiles softly and it nearly breaks Sam's heart. Sam manages to answer to it in a weary manner.  
>"On the other hand, it would be pretty hot" he jokes, brushing the skin of Kurt's jaw softly with his lips. He wants to touch Kurt everywhere, every way, he has wanted that for such a long time, and it's hard to resist himself now, when he knows Kurt wants to be touched by him. "All the fear of being caught and stuff."<br>"Yeah, we know how's your last forbidden fruit adventure turned out" Kurt runs his fingers gently along Sam's cheek and brushes his hair behind his ear. "You have pretty eyes" he says. "Too bad they are swollen most of the time."  
>"There's a lot of pretty things all around" Sam whispers back. "Eyes, smiles, laughter. And you can never see it, because there's nothing to smile about." He kisses Kurt again, a little deeper. His hand, almost unconsciously, starts caressing the other boy's back, causing shivers for both of them.<br>"You could give me something to smile about" he whispers into Kurt's mouth, to his own surprise.  
>Kurt sighs a little, but it's not annoyed or irritated sighing; he actually seems relaxed, at least as relaxed as the patient of a mental hospital can be. He opens his eyes and smiles slightly as they meet Sam's. "There's already so much to smile about for us" he says, playing with Sam's shirt, kissing him again.<br>Kisses don't stop ever since, not really. Kurt leaves them on Sam's mouth as the boys' hands run over each other's bodies, softly, shyly, slowly, discovering every little piece, getting to know with all the soft spots, which causes muffled moans and little bites, trying to stay quiet. Sam leaves them on Kurt's neck and shoulders, quietly adoring them, as he undresses him. Their bodies are hidden in the darkness of the night, but no dark is dark enough to make Sam indifferent to the other boy's beauty – and as he whispers that, "you're beautiful", Kurt kisses him on the mouth again.  
>Sam hears he is as well, in fact, and the other round of kisses starts; this time Kurt kisses him all over his face, on the cheek, near to his jaw, on the eyebrow, on the chin, covering every little piece of skin; no one has ever kissed Sam like this before and his feelings are a mixture of heartache and being somehow incredibly turned on by this.<br>"Just be quiet" Kurt whispers. "Really, _really_ quiet" he repeats and suddenly pushes Sam's hideous, orange uniform pants down. As he starts stroking him, it crosses Sam's mind that he apparently wasn't the only one turned on by these kisses.  
>Kissing starts again, full on the mouth this time, with a small break for sucking fingers. "It has been a long time" Kurt says quietly, closing his eyes, making the other boy a little tense. Sam considers telling him something, comforting him about the past, promising to take care of him, but instead he just kisses him again, hoping for that gesture to explain everything that's too hurtful to say out loud; and as Kurt gently licks his way into Sam's mouth, he believes he understands.<br>Sam's nervous; unlike Kurt, he definitely doesn't have a lot of experience, no matter how many gay jokes the other patients made. He tries to man himself up, remembering that he's not the only one who needs it, but he's definitely the one who presented the idea in the first place.  
>The kiss changes when Sam is fingering Kurt. He bites Sam a lot, his tongue, lips, mostly the bottom one, trying to keep himself quiet, without the sound. It works – at the price of Sam's pain, though. After adding a second finger Kurt bites him so hard the skin breaks and Sam can feel the taste of his own blood on his tongue. That causes breaking the kiss; Kurt presses his mouth strongly to the other boy's cheek.<br>Sam would like to ask if he's okay, if it hurts too much, if the spot is right, he would look for some guidance; but of course he can't get any of that in this situation. But then he feels Kurt nodding slightly… Or maybe it's just nuzzling. No matter which one the action was supposed to be, it makes Sam feel much better.  
>Sam thrusts in and Kurt lets out a little moan; panicking, he presses his face even closer to Sam's, not like it was unpleasant. Sam can't imagine this kind of closure being unpleasant, especially between them, especially here, especially now. It's a <em>need<em>, desperate need hidden so deep he almost forgot it existed.  
>Sam's trying to make his actions appear much more sure than his mind is, but quickly realizes <em>trying<em> anything is a complete bullshit. It's not some fucking in the barn, with all the respect for the barn; by fucking Kurt he's doing way more than just fucking. In the world of the masks, now here they are, fully exposed, vulnerable in every way, breathing hard against their palms, trying not to make a sound.  
>Sam opens his eyes before he comes; so does Kurt. They catch each other's sight.<br>"Are you with me?" Sam whispers so quietly he barely opens his mouth, not sure if he's making any sense. But apparently he does.  
>"I'm right here" Kurt answers and catches the other boy's mouth into the another meaningful kiss.<br>Sam finishes, and, thankfully, so does Kurt. They somehow manage not to make noise; everyone else is still in their deep sleep.  
>Sam feels like laughing. They cheated. They are in a mental hospital, to be treated from homosexuality. And they just fucked in the common bedroom and nobody noticed. Somehow, it feels incredibly funny. He can't help a little smirk, and Kurt softly smiles back, breathing heavily.<br>"Get the fuck out of my bed" he whispers, "but kiss me first" he adds when Sam pulls his pants up, so Sam fulfills this request.  
>"I'm sorry about your lips" Kurt says as they separate, his thumb ghosting on Sam's cheek. "I promise to never bite you like this again, unless you clearly state you want me to," he smiles.<br>"I feel happy" Sam doesn't know why would he confess that; it doesn't seem like unordinary or special news, not to normal people. In an asylum, though, it feels weirdly exotic, and something tells him Kurt should know.  
>The other boy smiles and nods; he reaches for Sam's hand and squeezes it gently. Sam's heart skips a beat and somehow he considers this little handhold the most intimate part of the night.<p> 


	5. Knife

It seems pretty ridiculous, the whole effort to find a place where no one can find them and then using it not for rough quickie, but nothing more than… a hug. Even if they forgot themselves last night, on Kurt's bed, it would be insanity to try anything like that again. Anything close to that. Anything at all. They were lucky - incredibly lucky - and it's better not to take any kind of risk anymore. Even an embrace seems like something highly immoral, way too intimate to be innocent, real and meaningful like that handhold last night, and, after all, the reality and meaning is the hardest part; you can cut off a queer's dick, but not his heart.  
>So they find a long forgotten janitor's closet, hope that no one will notice they are gone, and just fall into each other's arms, like lovers torn apart years ago, and they hug, and Kurt feels so good and right in Sam's arms, and Sam feels like Kurt's smell could become the smell of home someday.<br>"This is hard," Kurt sighs softly after few minutes of embracing. Sam feels his warm breath on his skin and his heart flutters all over again. He wonders if, with time, his feelings will become less intense and he'll get used to all this joy; on the one hand he would love to, on the other, not so much, even if every gesture makes him a little dizzy. He still can't believe it, even if he has tangible proof, right here, in his arms. "I want to be close to you." Kurt nuzzles his neck softly.  
>"We are close," Sam whispers and notices his lips are dry again; obviously it happens a lot around Kurt.<br>The boy looks up at him and something in his eyes makes Sam's heart skip a bit.  
>"Closer," he whispers right against Sam's lips. "Right next to you… Pressed against you…" He lets out a little, wistful sigh. "Inside you."<br>Sam's lips separate softly, like asking for a kiss, but Kurt has no intention of answering to this entreaty. He's the careful one, after all. Sam swallows softly. "Soon," he says and smiles to his thoughts. "After we run away, you'll be as close to me as it's possible, as many times as you want." He presses his lips softly against the skin of Kurt's cheek. "Screaming as loud as you want," he adds lustily, "without holding back or biting lips."  
>Kurt smiles. "Maybe a little biting," he says and loosens the embrace. "But now, keep your distance," he warns. "No teasing."<br>"You started it," Sam reminds.  
>"Remember that I'm not even gay," Kurt says, ignoring Sam's comment. The blond lets out a little smirk, even if there's not much to laugh about.<br>Kurt raises an eyebrow softly, but there's no real judgment in this gesture. "You really get giggly after you get some, don't you?" he asks, the corners of his mouth up in a little smile. Sam fights the temptation to kiss it away.  
>"I told you - you made me happy," he says truthfully. Kurt's expression goes a little more serious; he slowly raises his hand and lays it on the other boy's cheek. For a second it seems like he is about to say something, but he resigns from it and just leaves a small, rushed peck on Sam's lips.<br>"Do you have a plan on how to get a knife?" he asks, changing the subject. Sam wonders if it's possible that the other boy is blushing a little, but that's a silly idea, isn't it?  
>"Kitchen," Sam answers monosyllabic, due to the kiss and the whole moment that just happened having something completely different on his mind.<br>"Obviously the kitchen." Kurt smiles ironically, but Sam guesses he feels a little flattered. "I'm asking about the more complicated part."  
>"Today is Finn's shift," the boy explains. "We managed to exchange hours with a few people and we're all gonna be there, for general safety, you know. We're going to do the distraction thing again… And this time for real!" he says quickly, seeing Kurt's reaction. "And it's going to work. We'll like, uhm…"<br>"Pee into the soup?" Kurt suggests, not impressed.  
>"Actually, I thought about something looking more like an accident… But hey, it's a nuthouse, after all." Sam smiles slightly. "And I bet Puck would love that idea. You're a genius, Kurt."<br>The boy shakes his head softly, unbelieving. "Sam, you're…"  
>"An idiot, yeah," Sam interrupts. "Insane. A joke," he suggests.<br>"No," Kurt looks at him, reminding himself of the previous day. "Definitely not, and I'm sorry I made you feel that way - that I wanted you to feel this way," he sighs. "You know I was protecting myself. No one is perfect and everything is relative, but you…"  
>He stops for a while, looking for words.<br>"You in four days did more than most of us in years," he continues. "You dared to think on your own. You are brave and pure and honest. And you, uhm, saved me."  
>"No, I didn't," Sam refuses quickly.<br>"You said I made you happy," Kurt reminds him, "but just think about what you did to me, even the difference between yesterday morning and last night." Kurt shakes his head. "I was… dead. Like an empty shell, afraid of letting any emotions in. I was holding on to this idea of some kind of peace, no matter what that peace was supposed to be, not realizing what it was doing to me. A little like Finn, who can't accept that Rachel is dead. But he, at least, has love as his motive." He sits down on a stack of towels, looking at the ground. "I don't even know what mine was."  
>Sam sits next to him; he would like to put his arm around Kurt, but he doesn't dare to.<br>"You were really, deeply hurt by the person you loved the most," Sam says slowly, his throat feeling dry. "It's normal you didn't want to let anyone in, and-uhm, and then you were put through that whole therapy, I can't even imagine that, even though maybe I should, because I'm supposed to start it soon," Sam laughs quietly, bitterly, wondering if it sounds like whine. The other boy turns his head to him, but doesn't say a word. "Everyone would be completely broken, Kurt. That's what these things do - break people. That's exactly how it works. It doesn't mean you're weak or whatever. It makes you human."  
>"I'm getting to know you, Kurt," Sam continues, not letting Kurt speak yet, holding his hand shyly. "And I think you're an amazing person. Romantic, who believed he might spend the rest of his life with the guy he loved… You created this bond with Finn and you care about him so much - you care about people so much, even if it doesn't show all the time. You're a team player. And you try to keep me in check" Sam smiles softly. "I think you're amazing. I believe you're capable of wonderful things, as soon as you learn to breathe freely again."<br>Kurt squeezes Sam's hand in silence; he takes the first of many deep breaths.

The kitchen is weirdly cold and hot at the same time; white, blindingly clean tiles (as rumors say, washed by the drastic obsessive–compulsive disorder cases) and empty spaces give you shivers on your back and make you wish you had something warmer on; the steam from all the pots and never-ending fire in the ovens give you fever and cause sweating. It's probably one of the few unpleasant kitchens in the world; places like this, full of good work and food, usually have the tendency to be liked. This one gives a terrible impression, and the cook Tanaka, massive, always dissatisfied, grumbling and with tendency to breathe heavy even during the lightest works, only deepens these feelings in all the patients.  
>Sam looks up from his duty as the door opens; way too long hair is falling into his green eyes, slightly disturbing his vision, and he can't help a little grin, full of pride, when his paramour asks the cook (in a polite, a little enthusiastic and well-acted voice) if there's some extra work he can do (and, as it seems from cook's answer, 'there's always work') - Kurt decided to be there, help them get a knife, and in the corner of his eye Sam sees surprise on Puck's face and a smile on Finn's, since none of the three had any idea he might join.<br>And that's good, even if it's unplanned - because, weird, Santana is missing, and they can't really wait for her to show up anymore.  
>The group shares a series of looks, all of them, like they were making sure they are all still into it. Puck's eyes show slight worry, Finn's some kind of hope and determination, Kurt's chin is <em>up<em> again, but even if it still makes Sam nervous, it's good kind of nervous and somehow this gesture feels completely different than a few days ago.  
>The look Finn and Kurt share reminds Sam the whole telepathic conversation, ending with a small nod on Kurt's side and a barely visible smile on Finn's.<br>So it's on.

Their plan is all about the mess, actually. No one pisses into the soup, though. It all starts with Finn, the craziest of all of them, so the most appropriate to do that, mumbling something to himself. The cook gives him quick look, wondering if he should intervene – the hospital is full of way worse cases, but most of them aren't allowed to come close anywhere near food, so he doesn't have to deal with them, he's not used to that as well as the rest of the staff. When the mumbling goes a little louder, some 'fucks' and 'shits' are able to be heard, he approaches Finn.  
>"Are you okay, boy?" he asks, but there's no real interest or worry in that question; his voice feels rather rough. "Do you want me to get you a doctor?"<br>Finn acts like it infuriated him, and who would have thought he has so much of acting skills; he pushes the table he was working by, with all ingredients on it, so hard it falls down on the floor. Sam reacts to the noise by grabbing his head, like he had some kind of an attack – he's the aggressive and dangerous one, after all, he's allowed to feel threatened by something like this, isn't he? He only hopes it all comes out convincing.  
>The cook comes to the terms that the situation gets too complicated for him; he wants to call the orderlies, but before he manages to do that, Puck uses the opportunity to cause an even bigger mess, knocking down the pot from the fire, spilling soup from it everywhere. At that moment, Kurt blocks the kitchen door with some chair and his own body; small and quick, doesn't bring any attention to himself when he does that, thankfully, so it isn't clear for the cook it's a trap, at least not yet.<br>Sam, as _aggressive and dangerous_ as his file said, reacts to this kind of stressful situation by attacking the cook, right before he reaches for the emergency button. Finn is supposed to use this moment to get a knife and run away with it, but, sadly, their messy plan might have turned out a little _too messy_, because the item got lost and suddenly it seems impossible to find a _knife_ in a _kitchen_. Meanwhile, maybe because of all this distraction due to troubles, the situation gets even more troublesome; the cook manages to free himself and push Sam down. The blond suspects it's the moment when he gets hit, sees the stars in his eyes and eventually loses his consciousness to wake up in room without the handles in doors, but the cook gets pushed off him by someone small and quick, exactly the way Sam was pushed at the wall few days ago, when he was leaving the gym.  
>Sam turns his head to look at Kurt; if he had time and conditions, he would be fulfilled with pride and worry and affection and lots of protective feelings and he would realize he loves Kurt with his whole heart and that he would love to spend the rest of his little, stupid life protecting this boy from all wrong in the world and let Kurt protect Sam back, standing by each other's side no matter broke or gay or in the shadows or all by themselves; but he definitely doesn't have time and conditions for that.<br>The cook, shocked, but furious, reaches for a knife, which ironically, after all this looking by Finn and Puck, lays right next to his hand, and the next few seconds pass incredibly quickly and, in some way, imperceptible – Sam hears himself screaming "no", the gesture of cook's hand, seeming more like a slight threat than a stab, as he admits to himself later, when blood gets washed off the floor and the tears are fallen, Finn is right in front of Kurt, protecting, practically running into the knife.

And then time stands still, as still as the knife's handle comes out Finn's body.

And it's all quiet, not counting Kurt's howling and crying as he crawls to Finn and holds the bigger boy in his arms, asking him hopelessly not to die, repeating that, unable to say anything else. Please don't die, please don't leave me, please, please, _please_.  
>Sam just sits there, on the floor, not sure exactly what's happening, unable to understand it with his shaken mind, feeling that his face is dry from tears, even if he can't recall the moment he started to cry.<br>"Kurt," Finn starts, his voice weak, "when you get out of here…"  
>The boy closes his eyes and shakes his head, he doesn't want to hear goodbye or a last request, he keeps repeating, please, please, please.<br>"Please, tell Rachel…"  
>"I will," Kurt manages, but he's still shaking his head and the tears keep streaming down his face. "I will."<br>For a moment Sam thinks he sees a little, sad smile on Finn's face, but it disappears as soon as it appeared, and a second after Kurt starts to cry even harder, letting out a long, painful whine as Finn stops breathing.  
>The cook starts speaking, explaining, asks them if they saw it was just an accident, just an accident, that this big guy basically ran into the knife. Kurt keeps crying; he doesn't give a shit about accidents; he holds his dead brother from another mother tight, rocking back and forth, deaf to everything around him. Sam just keeps sitting there, his mind blank; he can't believe Finn died, the boy who welcomed him to nuthouse died; it was his plan, Finn's plan, getting the knife was Finn's plan; and Finn died. Sam's mind crosses the thought he's with Rachel now, with the love of his life. Sam closes his eyes tight, but he feels new tears coming. Kurt sobs quietly, bitterly, helplessly. Puck stands up slowly; he stands up with a knife in his hand, the fucking knife with Finn's blood on it, shaking.<br>Finn died.  
>Killed by a knife he planned to get.<br>The kitchen's door open, the chair that held it back in on the floor, just like the table Finn pushed few minutes ago, Karofsky is here, so are other nurses and orderlies; they drag Sam from the floor. He looks up; Puck isn't here anymore. Puck ran out with the knife; Puck was the thinking one, how Puck managed to even think at all, Sam has no idea. Kurt is still on the floor, still holding Finn in his arms. They are trying to take the body away from him; Kurt doesn't let them. He fights and scream and cries, even if it seems like there's nothing to scream about anymore. He never opens his eyes. Sam is crying again; the cook keeps explaining. No one pays any attention to him. The soup mixes with the blood on the floor and it makes Sam sick to his stomach.  
>"Isolation ward," he hears Karofsky's voice and notices the needle. "And someone, clean up this fucking mess!"<p> 


	6. Key

Karofsky's gestures are soft and gentle as he unlocks Sam's straight-jacket and Sam hates him for it with a burning passion in every single cell of his body. He doesn't even move – he feels as tired as he was his first day in the asylum, though this time the exhaustion is less physical, more mental. He wasn't aggressive after Finn's death, not really. He might have lost some of his shit when Kurt got drugged and dragged into isolation ward, which caused them to put the straight-jacket on Sam in the first place – but after that he was calm, so it surprised him that they decided to keep him under observation for a few hours, whoever they were, and he had a weird idea that they equaled Karofsky. He sat with a nurse – maybe a few nurses, he didn't pay much attention to details like that – in the common room, barely moving, never taking his eyes off the stage he saw Kurt on for the very first time, the one he sang on. The day turned into evening, the evening faded into night, nurse from time to time pressed a bottle of water to Sam's dry mouth, quietly ignoring the tears falling down the boy's cheeks. The other patients were disappearing from the room to go to sleep or just lie in their beds fully awake due to insomnia, and Sam had only one thought on his mind: he needs to get out of this crazy situation and find the rest of them. Find Kurt, especially Kurt, because he has to be with him, talk to him, he has to…  
>But he doesn't really know what he could do to Kurt. There's nothing to make the pain go away, his own pain is incredible, his own feelings are mess, he can't even imagine how much harder it must be for Finn's brother.<br>"We've got a lot to talk about," Karofsky announces after he frees Sam. He allows himself to be obvious, because the rest of the staff already left the room - the blonde feels his lustful sight on his skin _again_. It doesn't creep Sam out this time – it only makes him angry.  
>He doesn't want to talk, definitely not with Karofsky, definitely not with image of Kurt in an isolation ward on his mind; of Kurt crying, if he has any tears left; of Kurt howling, if his throat isn't too sore to make a single sound.<br>"I had your work-out friends called into the gym," guardian hisses. "I thought it would be nice to talk to you all in your favorite spot."  
>Sam blinks a few times; he blinks and hair is falling into his eyes again – suddenly he gets even angrier, incredibly angry, furious even. He should have cut this hair long time ago, he regrets he doesn't have anything to cut them right now, in this exact moment, maybe if it was shorter and he was seeing better…<br>No, stop. His hair didn't cause Finn's death. A haircut wouldn't save him. Sam can't think of things like that.  
>He opens his mouth; he wants to refuse that any of them would be his friend, but Karofsky isn't about to let him speak – he isn't even looking at him anymore. His eyes wander around the room.<br>"Does it bring back memories?" he asks with weird mixture of arrogance and pure interest. "Like the first moment in the asylum? The moment your last relative sold you like a lamb to the slaughter? Or maybe the moment when you decided to fuck Kurt? Because, you know, it has been pretty obvious this whole time. Your feelings towards him, I mean."  
>Sam doesn't respond in any way.<br>"Did you succeed?" Karofsky continues. There's something else in his voice, something a little bit like a jealousy, which somehow makes Sam even angrier. "Did you turn him gay again? Because, boy, if you did, you both are totally fucked."  
>Sam remains quiet and they fall into this silence, which seems uncomfortable for Karofsky; it's clear he would rather Sam react, get angry or upset.<br>"You realize you're nothing more than a pretty face, right?" he teases after a moment. "That the only thing you have to offer is your body? I mean, it's not like thinking is your strong suit or anything, it for sure didn't get you very far."  
>Surprisingly, the corners of Sam's mouth go up in a little, cocky smile.<br>"I didn't use my ass to become your fucking pet," he says calmly, "and this alone makes me much more than just a pretty face."  
>Karofsky obviously isn't very pleased by this answer; they stare into each other's eyes for a second and Sam feels like he's winning – he blew out the match again, he's not broken, he's not <em>his<em> in any way, just like he promised. The blond feels new determination in his mind and fire in his heart, fire big enough to set this place in flames – but he has to find the others, Santana, Puck and Kurt.  
>Karofsky is done talking – he opens the door and guides Sam to the gym, pushing him roughly, his actions definitely not gentle anymore, but getting more and more sure with every step, with a little smile appearing on his face, and Sam feels like situation might be way worse than he suspected.<br>And it is.

It starts with something about the way Santana sits – with her legs pressed together, hands put calmly on her knees, her head gently leaning down, so they can't see her face clearly through long hair. This position is so different from her usual body language Sam barely recognizes her.  
>"This lovely lady," Karofsky says, moving closer to the girl, "acted incredibly responsible, unlike the rest of you." Santana shivers softly as guardian puts hands on her shoulders. "Because, you know, when we have some sort of the problem – I don't know, for example a few people who want to run away from the hospital – the most responsible decision is to tell someone. Someone with power, I mean. Especially when the people who cause this kind of problem are dangerous lunatics. I mean, they can hurt themselves, can't they?"<br>"Santana…" Puck starts, his voice showing he's hurt, but Karofsky interrupts him right away, screaming 'silence', theatrically, with pure satisfaction. Santana shakes her head hopelessly, looking up to meet Puck's eyes.  
>"Brittany," she says quietly, like her name could explain everything. And in some way, it does. Because Brittany is, after all, the motive of all Santana's actions, the reason she's still alive, the reason why she joined their group and the reason why she bailed them out. "He-he found out and I…" She stops and looks at Sam – he notices her eyes are kind of teary, but he knows she won't let herself cry. She wasn't that kind of girl. "I'm sorry, Trouty Mouth," she manages. <em>I had to protect her<em>, she doesn't say, but she means it. And as much as Sam would like to direct his anger at her, blame her, hate her, somehow, he can't.  
>"You see," Karofsky continues, looking at Sam, "when you work with the staff you might actually <em>be safe<em>. Make your life comfortable here, even. People can accept your little secrets… But if you don't…" He shakes his head slowly. While he speaks, Santana's face is perfectly neutral and blank, which ruins the idea of promised land Karofsky suggests. "If you keep trying to make things hard for all of us, if you don't want to cooperate… No one will pick up some small mistakes. Like, wrong order when it comes to your therapy."  
>Sam swallows slightly, trying to keep his poker face on. He doesn't want to let anyone break him, not now, not after he has been holding on so long.<br>"You're fucking disgusting," Puck says with anger.  
>"Says the murderer," Karofsky notices. "I really don't think a person who is here only to avoid prison is the one to preach about the morals."<br>"You don't know a shit about me." Puck's fists clench.  
>"And I would rather to keep it that way." Karofsky nods. "I'm sure there's a lot of details in your past no one should get into."<br>Puck makes an attempt to hit Karofsky, but the guardian shows unexpected agility – the injection hits Puck's neck and the boy falls down on the ground unconsciously. Santana lets out a little, surprised scream and Karofsky tells her to shut the fuck up. "He's going to be fine," he says. "At least for now."  
>And that's when his eyes find Sam's face again.<br>"Get out," he says to Santana.  
>The girl doesn't move; Karofsky repeats his order, describing to Santana vaguely what might happen to her if she won't listen – and that's definitely enough for her to leave the room as soon as possible; Sam doesn't know if she gives him one last look or anything like that – he closes his eyes, trying to focus, calm down his mind.<br>He counts. One, one like map, like being lost, just like he was since his parents died. Like he was when he came here. And then he found his way. Two, two like fire, fire that haunted him in dreams and in every lighted match, like the fire that he decided to set himself. Three, three like a knife in Finn's body, which ended Finn's life, life fulfilled with love. Like love Sam was pretty sure he found himself, under the least expected circumstances. Four, four like a key. A key like freedom Sam is determined to achieve.  
>Five. Sam opens his eyes.<br>And the key is right here, right on Karofsky's chest.  
>"You have no idea…" Karofsky starts, shaking his head, his eyes never leaving Sam's face. "You are irritating, you know? Stubborn. Stubborn to the point that it's almost disgusting." Sam tries to calm down his heavy breathing a little; he can't allow himself to show anything, feel anything, not now. Feelings are for later. "I offered you help. I offered you forgetting. These are big things. Things people beg for. And you – you dared to reject that."<br>He's sick, Sam thinks. Not because he's gay. Because he's completely insane.  
>"Sure, maybe I played with you a little bit – like, with these matches, but apart from that…"<br>"It's not playing," Sam doesn't even realize when words leave his mouth. "It's bullying. You like to break people down, like it's a fetish. And…" He gasps, suddenly breathing seems like incredibly hard thing to do. "And when it's not working, you get angry. Frustrated. Ob-obsessed."  
>Karofsky laughs. "Obsessed, huh?" He comes a little closer to Sam. "Again, Blondie, you seem a little too full of yourself."<br>"Why wouldn't I?" Sam grins his teeth. "You're the one who brings everything back to me."  
>Karofsky laughs again, and looks right into Sam's eyes – and that's the moment when his expression goes more serious. And it's much more scary than insane laughing.<br>The guardian presses their lips together, angrily, strong, nervous. Sam's first instinct is to pull him away from this aggressive, unwanted kiss, punch him, run away, but he fights it and allows himself to fall on the wall, not separating their lips. He forces himself to kiss back, and in this moment, when Karofsky relaxes a little bit, thinking Sam gave up, he kicks him in the crotch.  
>Surprised, in pain, he pulls himself away, and Sam uses this moment to take knife out of secret stash – the place fire-extinguisher used to be, glad and thankful that Puck was still thinking about everything – and stabs Karofsky, quickly, causing enough pain for him to be unable to chase or even pass out, but carefully, not to hit any important organ.<br>Sam Evans isn't a killer, he never was.  
>When Karofsky falls down on the ground, Sam's entire body is shaking, he takes a deep breath, trying not to look away from the stain of blood, trying not to think about Finn, trying to man himself up.<br>"I told you," his voice is much more sure than he is. "I told you you won't break me."


	7. Me

"Kurt," he says, cupping the other boy's face, wet with tears, in his hands. "Kurt, Kurt," he repeats, leaving quick, small pecks on his mouth, cheeks, eyes, forehead. "We need to go," he manages, but Kurt only shakes his head weakly, not even opening his eyes. "Come on," Sam says. "Come on, look at me - look at me," and he really makes Kurt look at him, and thanks God his eyes aren't empty. They are red from tears, full of pain, but he's still here and it means they have a chance. "I swear, we'll get out of here, but you need to come with me, stand up."  
>"Where are they?" Kurt asks quietly, almost whispering. "Puck… Santana…" His voice breaks when he reminds himself of Finn.<br>Sam shakes his head. "They are out," he says and helps the other boy stand up. "I have everything, a map, a knife, a key…" He takes the lighter out of his pocket. "We have a very little time, I didn't want to start the fire without you…" He tries to explain and swallows hard. "Okay?"  
>Kurt opens his mouth, like he is about to speak, but resigns and just kisses Sam quickly instead, just like a few hours ago in janitor's closet. He gives the other boy a little nod and they leave the cell, closing it behind them - just in case, no matter what the case would be.<br>Poetically, they start a fire in this janitor's closet exactly, the last place in the hospital that has seen their hugs and shy handholds, full of materials and paper, just excellent for this kind of arson.  
>And then they wait, hidden near the exit from their ward, the one for hard cases. They don't talk - it's too dangerous, and they probably shouldn't touch, either, but their fingertips are touching, and by this little touch Sam receives and tries to share all their feelings and thoughts, about Finn's death, about them, about what exactly they are doing, and hopes it helps Kurt at least a little bit, knowing, that he's not all alone, Sam is right here, tangible, perceptible, warm, <em>alive<em>.  
>The fire is discovered soon enough - Sam hopes Karofsky wasn't even found yet, but that might be a little delusional - and in a few minutes he could hear the alarm in the whole hospital, along with people's screams and other signs of panic (it's not a big deal, Sam tells himself, everyone is going to be fine, they are going to be fine, it must be done, I must save myself, I must save us, and then Kurt grabs his hand and Sam feels a little better) and, most importantly, the clash of opening emergency exits.<br>They get out smoothly and Sam feels his heart beating faster and faster and fulfilling with hope and then-

the warmth of Kurt's back in the night during cuddling, his pale body in the moonlight, the taste of their morning kiss, living in one house, evenings next to fireplace, snow, laying in the snow, laying in the snow together, fucking as loud as they want, holding hands, smiles, lots of beautiful smiles and wrinkles caused by these smiles, freedom and wind and sunshine and saying "bless you" after a sneeze and fights and the future and a whole bunch of other things that never happens;

-then he notices people in front of the hospital gate.  
>They obviously aren't aware of the fire yet, they are hospital attendants who went out for a cigarette.<br>"So… That's it?" Kurt's voice breaks. "Oh God…" He lets out a little whine realizing what's going to happen to them when they get caught.  
>Sam bites his bottom lip, he breathes heavily, tries not to forget how to breathe, and counts in his mind again, one, two, three, four…<br>And five. Sam opens his eyes. He turns to Kurt.  
>"It's not over," he says. "Listen." The other boy looks at him. "I'm going to go there and bring their attention and you-<br>"No," Kurt stops him. "I'm not letting you…"  
>"Kurt, please," Sam holds his hand again, but Kurt shakes it off, angrily.<br>"I lost today someone, Sam," he says. "I lost Finn. And now I'm supposed to lose you, too? What kind of fucking freedom is that supposed to be?" He blinks few times, but he's not about to cry.  
>"Yeah, you lost Finn - and that's exactly one of the reasons why you should go." Sam manages to put a little smile on. "You won't tell Rachel, like he wanted, but you can put the light on her grave. And flowers. Finn would like that, I mean— if he accepted her death in first place."<br>"Sam, I…"  
>"And you are so special, Kurt," Sam goes on, not letting him speak, he really can't hear him and his arguments right now. "I helped you find yourself, yes, brought you back to life - but that's it." He shakes his head a little. "You were for years in a mental hospital and you managed to find yourself again, even if it took a little help and some fresh blood. That's a huge deal. Remember when you told me it's not about me? Well, you were completely right."<br>A single tear leaves a trace on Kurt's cheek.  
>"Asshole," he hisses. "You can't use my words against me like this."<br>Sam smiles again and leans his hand on Kurt's cheek. "Just promise me you'll be careful. And that you will love again, no matter how cheesy it sounds, okay? I'm a sucker for romantic shit like that… And that you will _live_. You understand? No matter what, you will live. For me. For Finn."  
>Kurt takes a deep breath. "What if I stand up right now and sacrifice myself, so you can go?"<br>"You won't." Sam kisses Kurt, sweetly, deeply, meaningfully. For a second he tries to forget where they are and what he is about to do, he's trying to make the kiss special, like only them two mattered, like only they two were. "But that would be a waste. I wouldn't be able to take losing you anyway. Do this, for me, go. Please, Kurt."  
>"And you turn into a vegetable," Kurt says, trying to be snarky, but it fails.<br>Sam's expression goes serious. "Maybe I could use that," he says slowly. "You know, the whole deal with the dead family…" He swallows. "But, you know. On my rules and with my blessing. I'm not breaking."  
>"Of course you aren't." Kurt squeezes his hand, tears falling down his cheeks again. "I hate you," he says. "I hate you for doing that."<br>"I know," Sam takes a deep breath. "And I love you too."  
>Kurt kisses him again and they know. They know it's the last one.<br>Sam stands up, slowly, and leaves their hideout. The staff notices him after a few seconds and they start questions - who are you, why are you here, where are you going, what the fuck, aren't you the new faggot?  
>He doesn't answer though - not until he makes sure Kurt is behind the gate and no one notices him. The dark-haired boy turns around, for the last time, and their eyes meet.<br>And then Sam is ready to answer - he punches one of the paramedics in the face.

It takes some time to start a normal life after you run away from mental hospital, but, in the end, it's possible to achieve that, at least as much as queer person can. You find yourself a name, you find yourself a job, you find yourself home. It's a good thing Kurt didn't have to find _himself_; he already had that covered.  
>The first thing he did after he found all these things was also finding Rachel's grave - putting the light on. At least he could have done that. He promised, after all. And that was the easy part.<br>The hardest part was the rest of promises; but he was honourable, actually. He was about to keep them all.

Sam sits on a chair and closes his eyes with a little sigh as they put the belts on.  
>He has been pretty tired lately, anyway.<br>The last thing on his mind is Kurt's voice.


End file.
